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#maedhros
actuallyfingolfin · 5 hours ago
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At the uprising of the great light the servants of Morgoth fled into Angband, and Fingolfin passed unopposed through the fastness of Dor Daedeloth while his foes hid beneath the earth. Then the Elves smote upon the gates of Angband, and the challenge of their trumpets shook the towers of Thangorodrim; and Maedhros heard them amid his torment and cried aloud, but his voice was lost in the echoes of the stone.
-- Of the Return of the Noldor
This is fine. This is absolutely fine.
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maglorious · 7 hours ago
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Btw someone (if you are in Tumblr show yourself) asked me this on Instagram and I couldn't resist:
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As I wrote on the pic, i found the base of Pinterest and literally copied it (it's a base, so I think I can do that) so obviously all credits to that artists whoever he/she/they is
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quinthejester · 9 hours ago
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Sons of Fëanor and their mother, Nerdanel! Ngl I don’t know which is my favourite - it’s mostly a fight between Maedhros, Maglor and Caranthir because I absolutely love those three
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telpea-kalka · 12 hours ago
Ok I’ve been thinking about what you said about Inter House forging competitions being banned on Arda by Maedhros, Fingon, and Finrod but Valinor hasn’t decided yet
So, re-embodied Maeglin and Curufin’s competition. Aulë is DELIGHTED. Everyone else is terrified. Anairë is organizing and re organizing her healing supplies. Plenty of elves are running for cover. Fëanor isn’t allowed to serve as a judge but he’s allowed to watch. Tyelpë is a neutral party.
Maedhros is smirking, he doesn’t have to show up for it, he’s got no stake in the competitions.
That is until Maeglin asks him to come and watch for moral support. (I headcanon they bond as part of the Morgoth is the Worst club).
Maedhros isn’t smirking after that.
-@outofangband
Oh. My god. Yes.
The Finwean forging competition keeps me awake at night. That is exactly how I pictured it.
Maeglin just got reembodied—Turgon was WAY to overexcited about powning the Feanorians. So he pulled Maeglin out of Mandos ASAP for this competition as soon as the Gondolin situation cooled down.
So now Maeglin’s dazed and confused, it’s too bright for him and he lost his sunglasses in middle earth, he has no idea about the gravity of this competition, and he just wants his cool uncle that he recognizes from support group to be there.
He would love to support his nephew, unfortunately all the Feanorians expect Maedhros to support Curufin too… he’s tried the ‘Listen Curvo, only a jerk doesn’t let the 180-year-old win’ angle and that didn’t work…
So now Maedhros has just entered the dangerous game of having to be there and root for both sides while not letting them find out he’s rooting for both sides…
Yeah Fingon’s been calling it the War of Wrath II
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astral-romances · 12 hours ago
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Russingon colour practice. Tried to colour with highly saturated colours only.
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mandhos · 13 hours ago
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It is never too late to thank you; I love you thank you! Plus Mae without scars
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feanarotherindion · 14 hours ago
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If they had social media in Silmarillion, Maedhros would have to write at least one notes app apology per month. Not to forget the obligatory YouTube apology video and the livestream.
And in the third age, Galadriel would have been this non problematic celeb who got cancelled this week when her old, first age tweets got leaked by Thranduil resurfaced.
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feenerd · 16 hours ago
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Maedhros: *kneels before Fingolfin to relinquish his claim as heir to throne*
Celegorm: why tf is he proposing to him for
Celegorm: wasn't he into Fingon
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ghost-generals · 18 hours ago
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The Untamed + Silmarillion Quotes
Maedhros did deeds of surpassing valour, and the Orcs fled before his face; for since his torment upon Thangorodrim his spirit burned like a white fire within, and he was as one that returns from the dead.
- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion, “Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin”
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feenerd · 20 hours ago
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Melkor: to what do I owe the hostility
Maedhros: I'm here on behalf of what's our right by birth
Melkor: this again?
Melkor: what could you possibly do with them anyways
Maedhros: what are YOU gonna do with them?
Maedhros: sit on them till they hatch?
Melkor: well you're gonna die not knowing
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outofangband · a day ago
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Dark Arafinwë AU: Snippets of the Introduction and the Ending
Dark Arafinwë snippets, basic information on the AU
AU masterlist
masterlist 
CW: extremely callous disregard of past trauma, abuse of power 
First part is combination narrative and summary and will be rewritten as a full story if there is interest. 
This AU has been in my head since about April and I’ve been very fixated on it! Most of it is in my DMs to people so there aren’t as many full on pieces but I’m working there! Please feel free to ask questions or send requests!
Tag list: @elarinya-nailo @iwenttomordor @much-ado-about-whumping @tears-and-lilies 
Maedhros is attending a formal event near Alqualondë and is accosted by another elf. Unable to wrangle the truth from the ages of pre-existing biases and feuds, Teleri soldiers arrest both the accoster and Maedhros who finds himself fighting against unpleasant memories of being confined and restrained. 
He’s alone in his cell, trying not to flinch whenever a guard comes by and alternating rapidly between the instinct to fight and scream and lash out and the instinct to hide and be subdued. 
He sees the guards stop and bow and he stands and walks to the door and sees Arafinwë. To his astonishment, he’s told that Arafinwë has agreed to have him released into his custody. He can’t leave the city for a few days, at least not until the matter gets sorted out. Maedhros starts to refuse just on instinct, saying it’s not necessary, etc. Arafinwë looks loftily at him.
“Do not speak foolishness, Russandol. Come with me.” And the guards unlock the door and nod to him and he can’t exactly insist on staying in prison especially because he is actually innocent in this encounter so he agrees reluctantly and follows Arafinwë to his carriage.
Arafinwë brings him back to the palace and into one of the more deserted wings. He doesn’t speak and Maedhros is incredibly uncomfortable.
Then, they enter a healer’s room, a small bed that is more for examinations than rest, drawers, and a table. Arafinwë tells him to strip. Maedhros is startled and steps back, eyes widening. 
“I know you carry weapons on your person,” Arafinwë tells him calmly, “For rather obvious reasons, I cannot allow you to keep them with you. Strip. I will give you something to wear.”
Maedhros does indeed have a knife in his stockings so he takes off his boots and hands it over. But Arafinwë isn’t satisfied.
“It would not be very prudent if I simply took your word, Russandol. I have worked as a healer, I was there when Angamando fell. I know you are scarred. Do not make this harder than it is. I do not enjoy this.”
Maedhros’s breath catches in his throat but he slowly takes off his stockings, trousers and tunic, ears burning with embarrassment, not meeting his uncle’s eyes. Arafinwë takes his clothes and gives them to a guard to search. Then he orders him to lie down. Once again Maedhros refuses.
“I hope you are not going to argue with me for every part of this. This is a standard procedure that would normally be done by our gaolers. Are you not grateful you are not suffering this under the hands of strangers?”
Maedhros lies down, breath shallow. Before he can react one arm is strapped down and then the next. The material isn’t coarse, a soft leather of some kind. But he recoils all the same. Arafinwë holds his head down when he begins to struggle. 
“I can call in guards to restrain you or you can hold still and we may be over with this soon.”
“I do not need to be restrained! I am hardly going to attack you, naked with no weapon.”
“Russandol, I have absolutely no idea what you are or are not capable of doing in your anger and desperation. It is as I said. A precaution. Hold still.” He straps down his legs. Maedhros’s heart is racing. He feels hot and cold at the same time. 
“Open your mouth.” He doesn’t. Fingers grip his jaw.
“Open your mouth. You can hardly be surprised that you are not trusted here. Do you not understand I have made this process significantly better for you?”
Maedhros tastes leather as something is forced into his mouth, preventing him from moving his tongue. Leather straps are fixed around his head.
Arafinwë finally takes a step back. Maedhros’s shallow breathing is softened slightly by the straps.
“Good. Get some rest, Russandol. I will check on you in the morning.”
Author’s note: Maedhros was surprised here and his shock is used to manipulate him into thinking this is the standard legal procedure however he soon starts to understand more how dangerous Arafinwë and please know that he becomes an absolute nightmare to hold hostage and will scream insults and fight and bite more than once. Ara isn’t stupid enough to try and hold him in the palace for long. I’m still working on a few ideas but I think once the three days of house arrest or similar are up, Ara will move him to one of his greenhouses while maintaining that Maedhros left himself, something no one would doubt given the animosity between the two families; why wouldn’t Ara have been glad to get him out of the house as much as possible! Twas a gracious and noble deed to protect his estranged nephew from the wardens but he has no obligation to note where he goes after! 
More information about why he’s doing this in the premise explanation linked at the top!
(months later)
(Author’s note: the nudity here is non sexual)
Maitimo is naked, curled into a ball with his wrists bound in front of him. He does not move or turn towards at the footsteps and it takes Fingolfin several moments to find his voice.
“Nelya, it is me,” he murmurs, crouching beside his nephew and raising his lantern. He expects the younger elf to flinch away from the light and his apology dies on his lips when he sees why Nelyafinwë does not flinch. A stretch of thick cloth is tied around his eyes, another around his mouth.
“It is only me, Nelya. I will not harm you. I will take the cloth from your mouth now, yes?” A pause and then a nod and Fingolfin’s heart simultaneously lifts and shatters. He reaches out and unties the second cloth, taking care not to pull at his hair. When it’s gone, he sees from the light of his lantern that the thin scars on his nephew’s face, usually barely visible, are now red and irritated. The cloth alone could not have caused this but Nolo puts this aside for now.
He swallows. “Nelya, I am going to remove your bindings and help you up before I take the other cloth away, I do not want the light to hurt you. Do you understand?” Maedhros nods without speaking and Nolofinwë takes his knife from his belt, cutting through the leather straps around Maedhros’s wrists. Nolofinwë then places his hands carefully on the younger elf’s shoulders and helps him into a sitting position. He has no clothing at all and his skin is cold to the touch but more worrying is his stillness. He makes no attempt to cover himself, merely sits there where he has been positioned. Nelyo hasn’t done this since the days and weeks after his rescue and it worries Fingolfin badly.   But he takes off his cloak and wraps it around Nelya’s body, hoping to lessen his trembling before finally reaching up to remove the blindfold.
His nephew’s eyes are glassy and unfocused. Nolofinwë recognizes at once that he’s been given something to sedate him and he knows that Maitimo hates taking anything that makes him disoriented or drowsy. Despite his anger at this, he tries to feel relief. Perhaps Maitimo’s mental state is not quite as fragile as he had feared, perhaps it is merely what he has been forced to take.
Fury courses through him but he swallows it. “Let us get you out of here,” he says softly, “If you have not been outside for some time, you may wish to cover your face against my robes until we get to the carriage. He brings them both to their feet and holding Nelyo close to him to prevent him from falling.
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outofangband · a day ago
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Splinters Like Jewel Shards
The anger of Arafinwë isn’t like that of his brothers; it’s become a poison, icy, cruel, but undetected by those around him until it’s too late. 
This AU has been in my head since about April and I’ve been very fixated on it! Most of it is in my DMs to people so there aren’t as many full on pieces but I’m working there! Please feel free to ask questions or send requests!
CW: callous disregard of past trauma, abuse of power, drugging 
Other masterlists
Writing:
Premise to the AU
Introductory Scenes
Snippets
Homesickness headcanon
Media:
credit to @selkiebycatch for the phrase splinters like jewel shards 
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skyeventide · a day ago
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« Terrible and unconceivable, is it not? », Macalaurë says, his mouth twisted bitterly in a smile. « Easier to claim that one's heart was nailed to the wall, carven out of you and shrunken dry. That you are now left heartless, and cruel, and unfeeling. But it is not true, is it? No, it is not true. We are still made of pain, and love, and regret, and grief. » His eyes fall to the bodies of his brothers. « And therein lies the horror: most of it we feel for other murderers. »
Then he grabs his dagger and cuts his hair unevenly, at his neck. Three locks he picks apart, three tresses. One for each of his brothers, placed on their chests, on their breastplates; to burn with them.
He looks at the rest of his hair, the severed war braids oily with the grime of battle, then throws it into the air to fall strewn on the floors of Menegroth.
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catholic-radio · a day ago
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POV Maehdros reluctantly puts on the playboy bunny suit and serves you mead in exchange for a Silmaril but he probably gonna murk u afterwards wdyd
lood ver here...
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outofangband · a day ago
dude what is ur obsession with torture 😭
I wanted to come up with something witty to this but because I know that this anon isn't actually in the Silm fandom and is someone who was harassing me for unrelated reasons and hasn't even read The Silmarillion I'll just say this (this isn’t a random guess, this is someone who sent similar asks elsewhere)
I outline in my bio and my pinned post that there is a lot of dark fic on this blog.
This blog is dedicated to my special interest with a character who is a canonical torture survivor
If you do not want to read it but still wish to view this blog I have given you the tools already!
You can blacklist In the Iron Hell and 'blind you be morgoth bauglir'!
I even have a separate tag for any fics involving sexual assault or extreme psychological abuse, the hidden hours
If you do not want any mentions of torture, even in the context of recovery, you can blacklist Post Angband.
But again, I say very explicitly in my bio, this blog is run by someone who has an intense hyperfixation and special interest with Maedhros* during and after his time in Angband*, the fortress of the Dark Lord.
Normally I wouldn't even answer something like this but I know there might be people who want to follow me for my boards and stimmy stuff so here's just that reminder that there are ways to ensure you don't see dark stuff here!
*I know you haven't read The Silmarillion but like, you can look him up or something, he actually has both a regular Wikipedia page and one on lotrwiki!
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outofangband · a day ago
Hi! Our conversations have made me curious - do you have any headcanons for Maedhros’ relationship with Finrod?
Oh poor Finrod in those conversations! (I assume you mean in the dark Arafinwë AU!)
I think they get along fairly well! I mean Finrod seems he can get along with most, even his eldest uncle’s family, at least until members of said family usurp him. 
We know they canonically hunted together in Valinor and perhaps upon Arda during more peaceful times. I think that Finrod was more of a wanderer than Maedhros was but they both share a love of learning and exploration. I think Maedhros didn’t see Finrod often when he was little because of the distance between their families so despite their age difference, most of their friendship was during when they were both adults or at least the equivalent of older teenagers.
I don’t know how much Maedhros learned of Finrod’s death during his own lifetime (though in my main timeline there is potential for him to learn a lot!) but I think that if he found out by rumor or by the enemy’s taunts and tales, he’d feel even worse, knowing what it’s like himself to face that evil head on. 
Also! @sakasakiii has hilarious comics of Finrod, Fingon, and Maedhros bonding over being the eldest sons, something I definitely think happened and you should check out her work! 
Also! I'm writing a few pieces for an AU of @dragonofmordor (who is an extraordinarily talented writer of Angband antics) where Finrod doesn’t die on the Isle of Wolves and is instead brought back to Angband! I have the first part here and the second is like 3/4th of the way done and is taking a million years but it will eventually happen!
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outofangband · 2 days ago
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this is a first draft of the random bad idea I had! this will be rewritten, I just had this mental image and needed to get it down! 
CW: dehumanization, public humiliation, mention of bones
I have no idea how to warn for this without making it sound actually worse than it is (because please understand, there were worse versions of this!)
masterlist 
random author’s note about language at the end!
tag list: @much-ado-about-whumping @elarinya-nailo @iwenttomordor
and @tears-and-lilies I know you love public humiliation so I wanted to tag you also :)
 “You heard me, elf!” Gothmog roared, flicking his whip so it landed inches away from Maitimo’s left wrist so a flurry of sparks landed upon his hand and arm, “Crawl to the other side of the hall and fetch.” The last word was accompanied by yet another strike with his whip. This one did not miss, intentionally or otherwise and Maitimo yelled in pain as a line of his flesh sizzled. 
The elf panted. Every time he had attempted to struggle to his feet, the whips of the balrog general and a few of its cohorts had knocked him back down to his hands and knees. It had long since been made clear that he would not be allowed to leave, to rest, until he fulfilled the order. Glaring would do no good. Maitimo crawled forward a few inches, stomach turning as he eyed the pile of singed clothes and bones that had been left by another captain. One of the bones was out of place, this the one Gothmog had thrown in frustration before the idea for this little game had come to him. 
Valar,  There were only so many taunting remarks about the High King of the Noldor on his hands and knees like a hound before they...mostly...lost effect. 
The balrog general seemed to be the only one of his kin with the knowledge or ability to speak any elven tongues and he too was by far the shrewdest, the most cruel. Maitimo had felt a hatred for him from the moment of his capture when he had arrived with his own party and heard the taunts of his own father’s death. He supposed he was only to be glad that the Dark Lord himself was not here to witness this particular episode of debasement. 
There was a tension in the air that crackled like the balrogs’ own flaming whips. Maitimo grimaced, looked down at his hands and arms, both covered in welts and burns from the whips. He bent his head, his hair falling over his eyes and closed his teeth around the bone. The hall exploded into the rumbling laughter of the balrogs, so intense that he nearly dropped it. 
“Good little elf, now bring it to me,” Gothmog rumbled, “Drop it at my feet like a good pet and I will give our master a good report, tell Him his prize has seen the futility of its earlier disobedience.” 
The pain of the whips, his exhaustion and all the indignities they had yet to inflict on him seemed to no longer matter. All he felt was his anger. The bone fell with a clatter from his mouth between his arms. For a moment he thought of grasping it and flinging it across the room at the general. But this was practically difficult with the chain connecting his hands, giving him enough space between them that he could crawl but certainly not enough to throw something. 
Naked with his hands shackled as they were there was no position he could manage that would afford him any dignity. Nevertheless he turned back to Gothmog, raising himself onto his knees with his palms on his thighs, the submission in his posture sarcastic enough to enrage his tormentors. 
“Wrong choice, wretched little kinslayer,” the balrog general hissed and the whips came down on him again. The agony and heat was, Maitimo knew, a mercy compared to what he would endure later. 
(upcoming revisions: more detail on the bones, writing the scene where Gothmog initially gives the order so I can have Maedhros being like ‘what, pray tell, the fuck’, more of the aftermath, potentially Melkor hearing about it.)
(author’s note: I tend to use more common grammar for the servants of Angband and older English for Melkor to indicate that he’s speaking in a higher and older form of Quenya when he’s speaking to Maedhros or that he’s occasionally speaking in Valerin) 
second author’s note: yes the bone is elven, yes it’s probably from someone Maedhros knows 
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